


The First 'I Love You'

by Akiko_Natsuko



Series: BixFreed [25]
Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Declarations Of Love, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, M/M, Realization, Sick Character, prompt: firsts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:21:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24020485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akiko_Natsuko/pseuds/Akiko_Natsuko
Summary: Bickslow thought that he might have always been a little bit in love with Freed. It had just taken him a while to realise it, and even longer to admit it. Perhaps that was why it wasn’t such a shock for him when he had settled in the uncomfortable chair beside Freed’s bed that evening, relieving Evergreen from her watch, and looked across at their Captain, teammate, friend, and thought…I love him. It didn’t feel like a bolt of lightning, or as though the world had shifted in a single moment. Instead, it was like the thawing of the last winter frost, or the blossoming of a flower.Inevitable.Beautiful.And utterly overwhelming.
Relationships: Bickslow/Freed Justine
Series: BixFreed [25]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1188712
Comments: 1
Kudos: 21
Collections: Fairy Tail Rare Pairs Week 2020





	The First 'I Love You'

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that if you want to talk to me about my fics and writing, or anime/shows/games in general then you can now find me on discord [The Unholy Trinity](https://discord.gg/6sSddAWa5c).

Bickslow thought that he might have always been a little bit in love with Freed. It had just taken him a while to realise it, and even longer to admit it. Perhaps that was why it wasn’t such a shock for him when he had settled in the uncomfortable chair beside Freed’s bed that evening, relieving Evergreen from her watch, and looked across at their Captain, teammate, friend, and thought… _I love him._ It didn’t feel like a bolt of lightning, or as though the world had shifted in a single moment. Instead, it was like the thawing of the last winter frost, or the blossoming of a flower.

Inevitable.

Beautiful.

And utterly overwhelming.

It wasn’t that it was a surprise, or that it was a man, or that it was Freed…their Captain, their teammate and friend… or maybe it was because the Raijinshuu was everything to all of them and if that changed. If it shifted, because of this blooming emotion, then he wasn’t sure what any of them would do. No, the thing that gave him pause, that made his breath catch in his throat, an ache that did little to mask the pounding of his heart, was that he didn’t know what to do with this realisation. With this warmth that was flooding his chest, driving him to reach out and tentatively tangle his fingers with Freed’s. _This is fine, we’ve always done this…we’ve always…_ They had. There had never been any hesitation about reaching for the other, no protective distance like they had adopted with the rest of the guild. They were close with Evergreen, she was family, friend, and teammate all wrapped into one, part of their trio, their heart…but he and Freed had always been different, closer in a way that he hadn’t been able to put a finger on, or rather hadn’t been ready to.

Bickslow groaned a low, frustrated noise that welled up in the back of his throat. Unsure if he was more frustrated that it had taken him so long to connect the dots, or rather to admit what those dots meant. Or, if it was the fact that the next step was right in front of him, as easy as breathing, because it had always been that way with Freed, and yet it wasn’t that simple… was it? He didn’t like puzzles. He didn’t like questioning himself. He had always been the more direct of the three, much to Freed’s frustration at times, as he would speak without thinking and talk them into trouble far quicker than the Rune Mage could talk them out of it.

Trying to distract himself, he let his attention shift to Freed. There was more colour in his face than there had been that morning, and not the unhealthy flush of fever that had lingered worryingly over the last few days. _Freed._ He leaned closer, even as his fingers tightened on Freed’s, watching the rise and fall of his chest. His breathing was easier too, a steady rhythm rather than the ragged, wheezing, and for a moment Bickslow closed his eyes and just listened to it, letting the sound lull him, hoping to ease the small knot of tension that had taken root when Freed had collapsed in the middle of the Guildhall.

It could have been too late.

In the quiet, buoyed by the sound of Freed’s breathing, that thought drifted to him as his eyes shot open with a startled gasp, as though expecting to find the scene in front of him changed. It hadn’t. Freed slept on, peaceful at last, even the furrow between his eyes that had lingered the longest had finally eased away, leaving him looking younger than usual, framed by unusually messy hair. _I could have lost him,_ Bickslow thought, realising that he might not have had this moment. That this warmth of realisation filling his chest could have come too late, and he tried not to think about the nights he had jerked awake expecting to find the bed empty, the dreams of cold marble etched with words that could never come close to describing Freed.

_I could have lost this chance._

Because this was a chance, he knew. A chance to reach out and grab hold of this dancing, tantalising ‘more’ that lay between them, to give voice to the feelings that had been lurking, waiting in the wings for him to open his eyes and see what was right in front of him.

A chance to say…

“… I love you…” He hadn’t meant to say it aloud, but the words had bubbled up, a low sound in the back of his throat. Hope and joy, love and friendship…relief that it hadn’t been too late, and terror at how close it had been, washed over him as they slipped out, deafening in the silence even though he had barely whispered them. There was a roaring in his ears, the wave of emotion threatening to carry him away, and he missed the furrowing of Freed’s brow, the gentle flutter of lashes. A stirring as though his words had broken a spell that he hadn’t even been aware of.

It was the gentlest of pressures against his fingers, that caught his attention, breath catching. It felt a butterfly dancing across his skin, and for a moment he couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. _Freed…_ The sensation came again, a little stronger this time. Although still a far cry from the strength that usually lay in those calloused fingers, and slowly he lifted his head, not sure when he had lowered it. Breath catching all over again when he was rewarded with the sight of the other man awake, eyes half-mast, but alert and focused on him for the first time since he had fallen ill. “…Freed.”

Freed tried to reply, but the only thing that came out was a whisper of sound that could have been his name, before he grimaced, tongue darting across too-dry lips. Suddenly dry-mouthed himself, wondering if Freed had heard, if he knew, Bickslow reached for the jug of water they’d kept on hand for trying to entice Freed to drink. Coming up short, when he found Freed refusing to release his grip if anything it had tightened, his knuckles white and Bickslow hesitated for a moment, unnerved by the rare show of vulnerability before nodding and managing a smile. “Just don’t tell me off if I splash you,” he warned, earning a twitch of Freed’s lips and something that could have passed for a nod before he turned his attention back to the job at hand. It wasn’t easy to pour the water into one of the cups one-handed, especially as it was his offhand, but he managed it without splashing Freed, although there was an unfortunate water stain on his own trousers by the time he was done. “Can you sit up a little?” He asked softly, knowing how independent Freed was especially when ill or injured, as though he had more to prove during those times. Freed hesitated, before slowly pushing himself upright, the grip of Bickslow’s hand almost painful when his other arm nearly gave out of him but finally Freed was semi-upright, and exhausted against the pillows, eyes locked on the water that Bickslow was holding.

With a stern look to try and stave off any protests, Bickslow held the cup to his lips, and he wasn’t sure if it was the glare or the fact that just sitting up had worn Freed out but he drank without a word, making no effort to snatch it away as he usually would. As Freed drank, Bickslow was intensely aware of how close they were, and the press of Freed’s fingers around his, the tight grip having loosened a little. _I love him. I love…_ It was a mantra, the words wanting to burst out again, and he bit his lip to hold it back. Still, not sure if Freed had heard him the first time, or whether either of them was ready for him to admit that things had shifted and changed irrevocably.

“Bix…” Freed’s voice caught him off guard, dragging him back to the present to find that Freed was done, leaning back into the pillows. Or more accurately collapsing against them, looking as though he could fall asleep at any moment. Bickslow returned the cup, frowning as he realised it was still half-full back to the table, before turning his attention back to Freed, just in time to catch his eyes closing and the stubbornly opening again. He fought back the flicker of disappointment. Porlyusica had warned that it would take Freed a while to recover, and instead reached out with his free hand and helped ease Freed back down on the bed, ignoring the swat and protest that greeted his efforts.

“You need to rest,” he admonished when Freed promptly proved that he was as stubborn as ever and tried to push himself upright again. It was disturbingly easy to hold him down, although the fight was still there, flashing in his eyes, and he pulled out his secret weapon, softening his voice and meeting Freed’s gaze without hesitation. “Please.”

Freed deflated at the quiet plea, still scowling but no longer protesting as he settled on the bed and Bickslow squeezed his hand, sympathetic and relieved at once. It wouldn’t have been the first time they’d had to get Porlyusica to intervene to keep their stubborn Captain in bed, and he tried to ignore the way his heart jumped at the fact that Freed had listened to him. Instead, he answered the unspoken question in the eyes that met his, and the tightening of Freed’s hand in his. “I’m not going anywhere, I’ll be right here when you wake up,” he promised. Just as he had pledged to dozens of times before, and would always promise, trying not to groan at the reminder of how blind he had been. _I love him…_ Freed squeezed his hand again, eyes already drifting shut, as though that promise had been the only thing he had been waiting for, and maybe it had been, Bickslow’s heart doing that funny jump again at that thought, and he pressed his free hand over his chest. _Stop…_

“Ever won the bet…” Freed’s sleepy voice dragged his attention back to the other man. Freed’s eyes were shut, only a slight quirk of his lips betraying that he was still awake.

“What bet?”

“Who would say it first…” Freed replied around a yawn, eyes opening just enough to let Bickslow see the amusement dancing there, his mouth dropping open as understanding dawned.

_They knew?_

_Freed knew?_

By the time he had gathered himself enough to even try and find his voice, Freed was gone, breathing evening out again, fingers lax in Bickslow’s. Bickslow was torn between amusement, frustration and a strange daze – _they knew? –_ but as much as he itched to reach out and rouse Freed, if only long enough to ask what that meant for them, he couldn’t bring himself to do it, instead squeezing the hand in his and sighing. As he did a warmth, spread up his lower arm, and he looked down, just in time to see the runes that danced across his skin, the message they spelt out flooding his chest and cheeks with fresh warmth, as his heart jumped once more in his chest.

_“I love you too.’_


End file.
